Chapter 2 - Are you lost?
1044 Words
“Please Dad,” Lylah pleaded, her voice thick with unshed tears.
“Please…stop,” she fell to her knees clinging tightly to her father’s left leg in submission.
Mr James was drunk again, piping on trees with no leaves. The scent of cheap gin clung to his clothes, a testament to how many bottles he’d downed tonight—five? Seven? Who knew anymore?
He had raised Lylah alone since birth after her mother ran away, abandoning them- worked himself into the ground, struggling to cover the household bills.
“I told you not to go back there,”
“You never listen, do you?” her father snorted, his bulky frame swaying as he staggered forward, reaching down to yank her up from where she cowered.
Lylah didn’t say anything. She’d just gotten home from another brutal day at modeling school.
Walking the top runways had always been her dearest dream, but lately it seemed almost impossible- every agency that came to her academy for scouting never looked her way. It was starting to feel like a cruel joke.
Tons of rejection letters from the ones she’d applied to, filled her bag, hanging heavy at her side. A weight that mirrored her sinking confidence.
“Why don’t you answer?” the unpleasant stench of rum escaped her father’s mouth, eyes narrowing as he studied her silence.
Color left Lylah’s face. Her breath cut, as if snagged on barbed wire, slowly retracing her steps in what looked like fear.
“I told you to come to the site and work. You’d be better learning welding at least,” his lips curled in frustration.
“School is useless,” he spat. “Dreams are useless.”
Without warning, his hand lashed out, a sharp sting blooming across Lylah’s cheek.
She shuddered, her blue eyes welling up as tears streamed down her now-flushed skin, the heat of the slap searing into her.
“Please…” she gnawed her lips in a defeated voice, forcing her words through.
“Please, stop Dad.”
Her father aimed venomous eyes her way, “You want to end up like your mother? Useless?”
“No… no, I won’t let you.” He rushed toward her, closing the short gap between them, yanking aggressively at her sleeves.
She sucked in a shaky breath, sweat rolled down her chin.
“You will quit school and work with me at the site.” His voice was firm, heavy with the finality of a man who had long lost his own dreams.
“You need to have skills to be treated well,” he went on.
“Answer me!” her father demanded, shaking her violently, his grip unrelenting.
Lylah looked into the eyes of the man that birth her, fresh sobs threatened to spring through but she held them back.
She couldn’t even hate him for this. He was her father after all, doing his best to keep them afloat, and still—despite all his resentment—paid her tuition everytime she asked.
Maybe venting his anger on her was his way of coping. Maybe, in his own twisted way, this was love.
“You’re drunk, Dad…..just stop,” Lylah finally said, squirming free from his grip.
“Wash up too,” she added in a low tone, a sad smile played across her lips.
She turned on her heel, leaving the house before he could grab her again.
“How dare you, you little…..” he called after her but she didn’t wait to hear the rest.
Out on the street, she emptied her eyes of the heavy pour she’d held, wandering off to god-knows-where.
Her fingers fumbled in her pocket for a mint, slipping it between her lips to drown the bitter taste of reality.
She wanted her dreams to be brought to life. The bright lights, the flashing cameras, the rush of being seen. She wanted her father to be proud of her. She wanted to make it, to prove that her dreams weren’t just childish fantasies.
This time, she was desperate.
“Maybe I’m just fooling myself,” she muttered, kicking a loose stone in frustration.
Her phone buzzed inside her bag, pulling her out of her thoughts.
She didn’t need to check the screen. It was her father—calling, as he always did after an outburst. The apology she wouldn’t hear in words sat in that ringtone, waiting for her to pick up.
But tonight, she let it ring. She wasn’t going to head back home as she always did after a little stroll.
She had no clear destination, only her thoughts and a growing weight of uncertainty pressing against her ribs.
Slipping in her earphones, she turned up her favorite track, letting the familiar melody drown out the world.
Her humming filled the silence- until she took a wrong turn.
A shadowy alley. Narrow, desolate, crawling with stray cats whose eerie green eyes glowed in the dim light.
Lylah hesitated, consciously aware that she’d missed her way.
She turned to look back, but the road she’d walked seemed longer now, more desolate. Moving forward made more sense than retracing her steps.
So, she did.
The world seemed to hold its breath as she ventured deeper, recognizing that she wasn’t meant to be there.
The alley stretched into something darker, something unnatural.
The farther she walked the darker it became, until a towering glass building emerged ahead, slicing through the gloom with its sheer opulence.
Her breath hitched.
It gleamed white against the night, it’s gothic-like signage glowing in oxblood-red lettering; DREADFANG PEAKS.
The name alone was terrifying, sending chills down Lylah’s spine. She stayed hidden in the shadows, unwilling to reveal her presence.
Ornate black hollyhocks framed the entrance while wraith-like gargoyles lined its structure, watching like silent sentinels. Two masked figures stood at the entrance, their postures eerily still, like statues waiting to come to life.
The building was a paradox- elegant yet haunting. The sight of it stole her breath, pulling her forward despite the unease crawling up her chest.
For a split second she considered moving toward it or staying where she was.
Before she could second-guess herself, a deep, gravelly voice cut through the air.
“Are you lost?”
- Writer
